I’m sorry, more I did not care.
I had the chance while you were here.
It’s just that I was unaware.
I never saw you shed a tear.
I did not know you had been hurt.
You always seemed all right to me.
But when you said, “I feel like dirt.”
I sensed something I could not see.
Too late I learned you felt no good.
I cursed the ones who told you so.
They stopped your being what you could
And thus gave you nowhere to go.
That left a hole for you inside,
A wound for life to feel alone
Because someone could not abide
A sin for which you should atone.
Despite your wound you handled well
All obligations that you bore.
You cared for me, that I could tell.
I now know why there was not more.
Had you told me what I know now
I could have tried to make amends.
To you I would have made a bow.
We would have been much more than friends.
I washed you, dressed you, did your shave.
When we went out I helped you walk.
I set you in the tub to bathe.
But through it all we did not talk.
I’m sad you thought I seemed so cold,
That I told you by being gruff
Your effort even to grow old
I felt was never good enough.
If I could do it all again
I’d hug you at least twice a day.
I would try more to ease your pain.
“I love you”, is the least I’d say.
My memory of that last night
Is comfort for which I am glad.
So many times to aid your ‘flight’
I said, “You did a great job Dad.”